


The Halfling Traveler

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Altean Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, FIx It, Fluff, M/M, Tech Savy Shiro, Time Travel, self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: “Hope this works.” Shiro mutters, not quite sure if he’s talking to the old hologram of Lance (and the one beside it of a full group photo that happened ages ago) or to himself.





	The Halfling Traveler

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man I've been working on this since...January? Holy shit I've written around 20k since the end of January wow I didn't even realize lmao.
> 
> Anyway, this is super self indulgent and I can't say when I'll post chapters, I tend to go back and reread and clean up and so updates might be slow but I'm determined to complete this because primarily this fic is for me. I just needed a time travel fic, and I _really_ needed for someone to give a shit about Shiro (I'm talking about you Dreamworks) and all the pain he's gone through is so upsetting. So bad things are referenced but Shiro gets a happily ever after if I have to spend hours writing this dammit. (Entirely ignores the mess that was season 3, I didn't even finish it, one joke about Lance's intelligence and I was like NOPE)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

A high pitched whine comes from the outer solar system scanners. Shiro bites his lip and continues working on the machine. His right arm, index finger modified so it turns into different tools at will, twisting the latest of hundreds many fixes. “Hope this works.” He mutters, not quite sure if he’s talking to the old hologram of Lance (and the one beside it of a full group photo that happened ages ago) or to himself.

Another repeated beeping chime echoes through Shiro’s hideout—at least twenty feet under the surface of the planet, enough that the first blast of a Galra canon shouldn’t hit him dead on, tells him that they have already reached the inner solar system.

“Here goes nothing.” Shiro huffs, pulling his hand out from inside of the machine. He closes the panel on the back, grabs both holograms and slips the small disks inside a little metal pouch around his neck that closes in on itself as if alive and checks to make sure he hasn’t left anything. Most of what he has is a pack of clothes, rations, water and his modified bayard and another pack full of tech that may or may not be ‘illegally’ upgraded by himself. He leaves the tech because either this machine works and he has a bunch of future tech he doesn’t want someone to get their hands on, or he dies. If there’s a part of Shiro that really just wants to rest, well, then no one can call him out. The man that could have, had died two hundred years ago anyway.

At the loud and screeching burst of sound that comes from a battle ship entering a planet’s atmosphere, Shiro opens the front of the machine (small, barely able to fit Shiro especially after his minor height increase two centuries ago) and slips into the cramped space. He closes the door and slams the coordinates into the small screen in front of him. Just as he enters the last numbers a blast rocks the planet.

The Machine lights up with a natural blue light that reminds Shiro of the Lion Castle, and a burst of soothing energy runs through Shiro. Then the world goes bright, so bright he can’t see.

 

Light spots linger behind Shiro’s eyelids and he’s not exactly sure what happened. He knows the machine at least didn’t kill him. Or he’s sure he wouldn’t feel a stabbing pain in his side. There had been a lot of light, losing all sensation in well—every sense. That warm soothing feeling entering every part of his being.

Then he finds himself here. Wherever _here_ is _._ Shiro blinks again just to check if he can see yet. No—still too many spots of light. Flickers of dead, sparking, machinery and the door has opened to what looks like grass. His eyes are slowly adjusting and he can see bits and pieces of, he’s assuming, a field—not many trees just tall grass.

“Well at least I’m not on Ava-99 anymore.” Shiro says, he had picked a planet with not much life on it. He hadn’t know if the damn machine ( _A time traveling machine,_ _L_ _ance would have loved that it actually worked, and howled himself into a coma)_ would explode, bad enough that it was opening a hole into the timeline, and hadn’t wanted to destroy one more planet that had life on it. Bad enough what Zarkon had done to so many planets in the known Universe.

When the pain in his side becomes too much to ignore, Shiro looks down. There is blood all over where a piece of wall had concaved and cut into him. He gingerly wipes the blood off to see the wound. “Not bad.” He snorts, because not bad is showing a hint of his ribs. He searches through his bag and tries not to jostle the wound. There’s a lot of blood but at least the metal is keeping some of the wound clotted. Ripping off those clots is going to hurt.

Finding several long pants he takes the most tattered and rips it into long strips. It takes more time than he would like, and he’s feeling dizzy and a throbbing hot agony around his side by the end of it. Shiro is less then gentle when he pulls out the metal and bites through his lip, “Shit, shit, shit.” He staunches the blood flow with one of the strips folded into a rectangle and makes a haphazard tight binding around it. Not great for his ribs since he has to _breathe_ but at least it stops the blood flow. Once he’s sure it’s tight enough and minor movements don’t cause more blood to taint the darkened cloth, he works on stepping out.

Getting out is a lot harder than Shiro would have thought. His spotty vision, the pain in his side, and a sudden heaviness when he moves his limbs is disorienting. A sudden tugging sensation almost makes him slip back onto the blood soaked sheet of metal behind him. “Fuck!” He grabs at the door and stumbles into the grass outside, sharp pain roping up his side. “Fuck that hurt.” His teeth grind and he pats at the rough-bandage and is relieved when he doesn’t feel more wet fluid against his fingertips.

That pulling sensation happens again, with a sense of apology mingled in. The second part is what catches Shiro’s attention. “Holy shit.” He turns in the direction of the pulling and it’s too far away to see, but he is _sure_ the Lion Castle is in that direction. Because only one thing has ever felt like this, the Black Lion. With sudden enthusiasm that his body doesn’t feel, Shiro stands, almost falling onto the door of machine. He flails for his pack, slices his tech hand in a burst of purple light through the important bits of the remaining machinery, and sets off at a hobble. It is not a dignified walk, and pain jars every step, but he cannot stop and rest now. Not when he can feel his Lion for the first time in a century.

 

Pushing himself leaves Shiro with a blood soaked shirt and sticky fluids on half his chest. He can actually see the top of the Castle when he finally sits down and rests. Truthfully, he falls down on his knees trying to catch his breath, and searches through his bag for two ration bars and a tube of water that almost looks like a water bottle but is made out of a sturdier material meant for deep space travels.

Even though all Shiro wants to do (and the link to Black Lion is telling him to do) is to keep going he settles in for a few hours of rest. He keeps the makeshift bandage on even if the tacky blood keeps smearing against his arm; better a bit of discomfort then tearing off a scab. Sleeping doesn’t exactly come easy, but it does come out of force of habit. His nap is restful and he feels much better when he wakes to a moon peeking out over the horizon.

The next trek is a lot easier with rest, food and water, and his bodies regeneration not hampered by his own bullheadedness. Shiro’s excitement and Black Lion’s grow ever stronger the closer he gets to the Castle. He would run or jog if he could. This is the most positive emotion he’s felt in centuries that doesn’t have to do with the grim satisfaction of destroying Galra ships or bases. Climbing up the mountain is hard on his body, and Shiro takes several more breaks. Both of Arus’ moons are in the sky after Shiro’s last break ends.

Finally, _finally_ , Shiro reaches the Castle. A familiar predatory excitement fills him, and he huffs a small rough laugh at Black Lion; they were always a little to eager in showing their emotions to Shiro.

The Castle doors open even without the Blue Lion there, and Shiro cautiously enters. He can’t access Black Lion without the others but he hopes that their link and the fact that Black Lion is awake is enough to deter the Castle’s defense system.

“Halt, scanning.” The Castle AI echoes through the quiet entry chamber.

Shiro stops and watches the blue light flows over him until a buoyant ding sounds.

“Scan Complete.” A subtle pause, “Welcome Altean.” If a computer could sound confused, Shiro is sure the Castle would be.

Shiro bites back another chuckle and he enjoys Black Lion’s own confusion in the back of his mind. Apparently even though their bond has transferred into the past they don’t know everything that Shiro does. He has always wondered about how smoothly Black Lion had reacted to Shiro. Clearly it isn’t a mind sift.

A light mental shove brings Shiro back to the present. Black Lion is sulky in the back of Shiro’s mind. He tries to push down his amusement but he can’t help basking in the light feelings. Light feelings weren’t exactly common in the future and he’s _missed this so damn much_. Before he knows what’s going on he’s crumpling to the floor. His hands pressing against the floor of the Castle, tears in his eyes, and Black Lion sending soothing purrs down their bond.

Shiro is sobbing, it fills the silent entryways, tears fall against the blue floor with each great heave of his chest. He clings to Black Lion’s steady presence and the warmth of the Castle. When there’s nothing left but a hollow sort of ache inside his chest he rests his forehead against the floor and just breathes. “I’m alright.” He chokes out to Black Lion.

An exasperated puff, _I think not_ impression, is what he gets back.

Well, at least someone in the past will be able to call Shiro out. He doesn’t have Lance to do it anymore. He firmly pushes out the thoughts of how he’s come before the Paladins (and _it should_ have sent him before he was ever trapped in the gladiator pits) because right now he _can’t_. He knows he should. He should get up, get to work, and not let himself wallow.

But after two hundred and twenty years, and at the age of two hundred and forty, he can’t help but take a moment. Enjoy the crooning of Black Lion and the home he once had here.

 

“ _How_ , it should not be possible for the Black Lion to wake us up.” A voice echoes through the halls. “They should not _even be awake_ without the other Lions here.”

“Yes I suppose the only way they would wake us up is if...” The second voice trails off, a very familiar voice.

“If there is a Black Paladin here!” Suddenly there are loud footsteps and someone yelling.

Startled, Shiro pushes himself up from the floor. His face is hot from tears and he wishes briefly he hadn’t cried so hard. He doesn’t think he’s ready for who he thinks those voices are. He barely stands up and brushes his hands clumsily across his face and through his hair-tugging away the elastic band holding it into a ponytail and letting it fall. From past experience it looks better this way; more formal.

Allura is the first one to appear, and she’s obviously out of breath, but still stands and has a…a decorative shield held high in two hands.

Shiro raises a brow and wonders how she expects to fight with that in hand. He is _pretty sure_ that those shields are made of soft alloys.

Allura freezes when her eyes catch on Shiro, eyes roaming over his face—his facial markings Shiro realizes, and the pointed ends of his ears that barely part his hair. “W-what-”

“Princess! You shouldn’t run off--” Coran stutters to a stop when his eyes catch on Shiro. “O-h-oh my.” He mutters.

Black Lion preens in the back of Shiro’s mind. Their impressions of _yes_ and _be impressed_ and _my paladin_ echo through the bond.

Deciding not to ruin Black Lion’s pleasure, because Allura and Coran aren’t impressed but surprised, Shiro shifts on his feet and tilts his head at the two Alteans, “Hello,” He pauses because he can’t call himself Shiro. Not if there’s another Shiro who will eventually become the Black Paladin. A half ingrained memory of one of the few good moments when the war had gotten worse flickers in Shiro’s mind;

_Naked in bed, wrapped in sheets. Lance pressing against his side while Shiro lays on his stomach._

_“_ _So, what’s your Altean name, you know when Coran and Pidge are finished with their project for us, going to be? Well, except for Hunk. You know how he is about_ _c_ _hange.”_ _Lance asks._

_Shiro tilts his head and shrugs, “I...don’t know.” He glances away._

_“Sure you don’t, what is it?” Lance pulls Shiro closer and starts kissing his shoulder, “Come on I’m you’re boyfriend you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone._

_Shivering with each kiss Shiro pushes at Lance’s face with a palm, “Stop that.” He chuckles, “You are such a liar. The instant I tell you, you’ll tell Hunk.” He doesn’t feel bitter about that. Hunk and Lance’s relationship is a tight knit thing and Shiro sometimes_ wishes _he and Lance were so close but he doesn’t wish Lance and Hunk didn’t have their best-friends-forever relationship._

_Lance pouts and licks at Shiro’s hand which does nothing because Shiro has dealt, and enjoyed, more of Lance’s bodily fluids then a little spit, “Shirrooo”_

_Shiro is a weak man. He huffs, pulls his hands away, and shrugs again, “Don’t laugh.” He says because Lance has grown up but sometimes the man laughs at the worst possible times._

_“_ _Of course, babe,” Lance kisses Shiro’s shoulder again, softly and sweetly._

_For one single moment all Shiro_ _can_ _think about is how besotted he is with this man and then he says, with a blush, “Katsou, my grandfather on my second Dad’s side was named that and well...”_

_“It fits. Hero. And Victory.” Lance smiles goes soft and glowing. The way it does when he looks at Shiro_ _(_ _when he thinks Shiro isn’t_ _paying attention)_ _and, and, he looks at Shiro like Shiro is his_ world _._

_“Yeah, well I’m no hero. No victor either.” Shiro says, voice tight._

_“Oh, babe. You have been a hero since you decided to do one good thing.” Lance says and then kisses him._

“Hello?” Allura tilts her head a little unsure.

Jolted from his memory, Shiro rubs at his teary eyes and says, “Katsou. My name I mean.” He doesn’t think he can keep looking at them because they are so _young_ and _alive_. The memories and the ones in front of him make him want to start crying once more.

Allura hesitates but a moment later she’s wrapping Shiro in her arms. “I thought we were the last ones!” She sniffles and her hold tightens.

Shiro gasps in pain and Allura immediately let’s go with an apology leaving her lips. “It’s fine.” He presses a hand against his side, feels a new wet spot, and glances down. Yep, new blood at the center of the wound where the bone had peeked out.

“Oh, I am so very sorry!” Allura’s hands hover over his side and there are definite tears now.

Something Shiro—Katsou, he reminds himself, never enjoys seeing on any of his friends, “Please, don’t cry. It’s fine. You didn’t know.” He says quickly. Hunk and Allura had been the most heart wrenching to watch, both far too expressive when truly upset.

“Oh my, we should take you to the cryo beds. Is your natural regeneration not working? If you’re still alive then you shouldn’t still be bleeding.” Coran says, appearing right next to them and startling them both. Now that is familiar, Coran was always rather good at sneaking up on someone, even the Blades.

Shir—Katsou waves a hand, “I would prefer not too. I need to give you information and help you find the Lions.” Hopefully find the present Shiro still on Earth. He hopes so, even if a whole part of him would be envious of the younger man for not dealing with torture, he would never want any version of himself to go through all the pain he has.

Allura looks uncertain but clearly the Lions are important enough for her to take him at face value. “Alright...” Her eyes narrow and her mouth gets a certain determined slant to it, “But if you start bleeding...more, or you faint or grow weak, you are going straight into the cryo chamber.”

“I still think we should anyway. You really have not healed as much as you should have in the last few minutes. Even a torn scab for an Altean would have healed in ticks.” Coran’s fingers, surprisingly gentle, poke and prod at the bandage. “Not bad considering it’s made from cloth. I _will_ have a look at it once the scabs are dry enough not to tear.” He says firmly.

Bemused, and feeling bittersweet at the concern, Katsou nods towards the general direction of a more informal meeting room, “We really should talk. I don’t have concise information yet and I need to know things.” He gently pushes Coran away-a quick touch that is hard to do, and sidesteps Allura.

“Right,” Allura sounds unsure but follows him.

“How do you know the Castle? Were you alive back then? But that doesn’t make any sense. You would be ten thousand years old! Even the longest lived of us was only a thousand and two hundred, and that was on medical machinery!” Coran has no qualms voicing Allura’s thoughts. For all his jokes he _is_ her protector, and Shiro is glad that he’s with her. He can’t imagine anyone better, someone who throws off people by acting befuddled and still gaining information. There’s a reason why the Paladins had taken so long to realize how good Coran was at getting them to talk.

“I...” Katsou sighs and grimaces at a twinge of pain coming from his side. His whole plan had been so out of reach and so impossible in the grand scheme of things that he hadn’t actually thought of telling anyone anything. The fact that he is _here_ is shocking enough. He’s already blown multiple venues of cover. But he can’t risk losing their trust, and he _needs_ Coran and Allura to believe in him. “I am only half Altean.” A truth, if someone counted as half-Altean from genetic modification.

Immediately Allura places a hand on Katsou’s arm, stopping him with a gentle pressure, “Are there more?” Her voice is high, “But the planet died, how—unless Father had another contingency, but why wouldn’t he tell me...”

“No,” Katsou pulls away carefully from the touch. He hates breaking her heart again, but better than making her have false hope, “Other than some,” He flushes. He had only learned about the genetic samples on the Castle because of how exactly he became half-Altean. “Other than the erm,” Why do the genetic samples have to be _literal_ Altean eggs and sperm...the eggs turn into _actual eggs_ (that had been an awful conversation with Coran) after fertilization. “Genetic samples.” He says in a strangled voice.

“Oh.” Allura slumps and just for a moment looks _so very tired_ , and then blinks and blushes, “How do you know about those?” She fidgets and glances at Coran.

Coran shrugs, looking a little red around his markings as well.

Katsou savors the lighthearted expressions, they are both adorable and less weary, though he feels a twinge when he looks at Coran’s lightly flushed face; a small bit of pleasure. He shakes himself, he doesn’t have time (or the inclination) to analyze that. Instead he opens the meeting room door with a press of his hands. It slides smoothly open. “Lions.” He says.

That at least seems to distract the both of them.

“Yes, the Lions. I don’t know how you have awakened the Black Lion but if you can get the others….But we don’t have enough people,” Allura’s voice cuts off and when Katsou turns to look, her hands are in tight fists and she blinks repetitively before centering herself, “to pilot all of them even if they chose the two of us.” She glances briefly at Coran and then winces.

“It is alright Princess.” Coran says gently, and then sighs, “I do not know if the Black Lion has already told you but I was once the Blue Lion’s Paladin. Well, before...” He trails off and grimaces. “I would rather not talk about it.”

That is a surprise, Katsou had no idea. He knew about Coran and Alfor’s relationship but. He hadn’t realized _both_ of them had been Paladins. But he understands the need to not discuss the past. So, he drops it. Katsou gingerly sits on the edge of the meeting table (just the thought of sitting in one of many chairs gives him phantom pain) and looks at both of them. “I know where Blue Lion is. I would prefer not to take the whole Castle but considering it’s the only way to wormhole if the Galra Empire--”

“Galra Empire?!” Allura yells, “They should not have an Empire! It has been ten thousand years! Even the most stable government should not last that long, much less an entire Empire by a man long dead!” She shivers in disgust.

Katsou grimaces, right of course they don’t know that Zarkon is still alive, “Zarkon is...he lives on through his Druids.”

“Druids.” Coran nose twitches, “I cannot believe Druids would just follow him. Their entire order?”

An entire order of Druids? Katsou had no idea there was one...He thinks on his past few meetings with Druids. Most of them had been under Zarkon’s Banner, “There are a few who aren’t part of his regime.” Only two, and they couldn’t join the fight because they were shielding several planets. Katsou at the time had thought of a destroyed Earth, a cratered pit that had become a small asteroid belt between Venus and Mars, and had let them continue protecting those planets.

The two Alteans in front of Katsou seem to lose all steam. But this is why Katsou is here, to make sure it doesn’t get _worse_.

“I know this looks bad, but I have a plan. So, what’s the date?” Katsou asks.

“Well it’s...” Allura lifts her arm and taps at her wrist, a small holographic information window appears and she tilts her head, “The Last year,” Her voice suddenly grows tight, “of Alfor, Nine Thousand Nine hundred and Ninety Nine Years, the First Month of said year.”

Altean dates are based on their rulers lifetimes (or absence of a new ruler) as a calendar. At least most Alteans lived close to a thousand years. Katsou takes a moment to sparse that into an earthen calendar. _So before the Kerberos mission by two months_ , he thinks. A weight lifts off his shoulders and he knows they will reach Earth easily even if the Princess has to take multiple jumps based on her energy levels.

“The Blue Lion?” Allura is rubbing at her eyes ineffectually, half turned away, but there’s an interested tone to her voice.

Coran looks just as invested. He’s taken steps to come closer, a soft touch on Allura’s arm that Katsou barely notices.

Katsou doesn’t know if the man has stopped looking at him since they entered the meeting room. He glances at the both of them before saying, “They are on Earth, a planet you are probably unfamiliar with, and we should hurry.” He remembers there is something important about Black Lion. Something that has to do with Zarkon. But he hasn’t been with Black Lion for a century and he shakes his head. For now getting the other Lions is the main focus.

With a heavy inhale, Allura nods resolutely, “We will get them back, I believe if you give me the coordinates I should be able to make a wormhole.”

Relaying the coordinates to the outer planets flows easily from his memory. “We cannot take the Castle too close to Earth’s sensors.” Katsou is pretty sure the Kerberos mission sensors were on their ship and not part of something connected back to Earth. Or the higher ups would have known about the Galra Ship in their territory. Bitterness wells up inside of him at the vague memory of being pressed against a cold medical table and he flinches when Allura’s hand settles on his arm.

“S-sorry, did I hurt you again?” Allura quickly pulls away her hand.

“I-fine. I’m fine.” Katsou holds up a hand, he doesn’t really need the lift, it’s not like he’s on the ground, and doesn’t exactly want the touch, but anything to get that look off the Princess’ face. He has probably given her more bad news then they had the first time they met. _Somehow,_ he thinks, _the only way I could make it worse is by giving her the coordinates to her dead solar system._

With a smile on her lips, Allura takes his hand and using a chiding tone says, “We really need to take you to the Cryo bay. Come on, I will input the coordinates. Once we do repairs we can go.”

Despite himself, Katsou’s lips tick upwards and he nods in bemused acceptance. A glance to Coran shows the man grinning with warm pleasure and it’s directed at _both_ of them. Katsou tries to ignore the heat that bubbles up in his belly.

The walk to the Cryo bay is almost as tiring as the trek to get to the Castle. Katsou stumbles to a stop against one of the exam tables that come from out of the floor.

Coran examines Katsou’s wound carefully; cutting up off the scabbed over cloth with gentle, strong fingers that strengthen the heat in Katsou’s belly.

When the cold of the Cryo Pod finally encompasses Katsou’s form he’s grateful for the chill. He is also relieved that neither Allura or Coran can read him so well as to tell when he’s attracted to someone. He pushes the thought of _that_ all the way to the back of his mind.

Black Lion huffs in amusement at him. They laugh at him all the way into unconsciousness.


End file.
